Just for This Moment
by TheCeruleanBlues
Summary: After the events of "The Chimes of Midnight", Charley pressures the Doctor for answers, surprised by what she discovers.
1. Questions

Charley/Eighth Doctor, rating M. Angst/Romance/Introspection/Hurt+Comfort

Trigger warning: mentions of self-harm and suicide, as per the Big Finish Productions "The Chimes of Midnight". This story takes place immediately after this episode.

Tried to be as canon-ish as possible. This is my first Charley and Eight fic, (and my first time writing any smut!) so give me a little credit for trying. :)

Italics are direct quotes from "The Chimes of Midnight" by Robert Shearman. That scary-ass bastard.

Charley woke sharply, the cold weight of the knife a ghost in her hands, and the salted, metallic tang of blood lingering in the air as the dream evaporated and her senses came back.

She rubbed her face into her hands, moaning softly, willing away Edith's words once again, along with the nightmare's sweat on her brow. Charley didn't need to glance at the nearby clock to know it was well and late into the night. She'd looked at the clock only an hour or so ago, after the nightmare had disappated for the what? Third time tonight? Or was it the fourth? Either way, it seemed like sleep was not to be her companion this evening.

Sighing heavily, she ran over the day's events again in her mind. Edith Thompson, the scullery maid. She'd killed herself for Charley. But Charley was alive, despite all odds. Charley knew she should've been found some months ago, charred and taken by the flames of the R-101.

_Are you dead, my poppet, or are you alive?_

But the Doctor had saved her. And they had stopped the paradox of Edward Grove, saving Edith in the process. None of those horrific things had happened. There was no blood. No knife. No death.

Then why was she still trembling?

_Am I dead, or am I alive? You must know..._

Charley swung her legs out of bed, and stood barefoot in her nightdress. Maybe the Doctor would know the answer. He rarely slept, he'd told her so himself. Hopefully he was true to his word on this. She could use a comforting word right now, and maybe just to be held for a moment in his gentle arms, ears desperate to hear the sound of those strange hearts.

She flushed as her thoughts became distracted. She'd never admit the effect he held over her, but Charley's affection toward the Doctor had grown significantly in the past few months. What started out as playful, innocent flirtation had sparked a flame in her heart, one that threatened to blaze out of control if she weren't careful.

_Charley, I need you._

Charley shivered, and pulled the soft, cream coloured knitted blanket from the end of her bed, draping it about her shoulders. Now it was the Doctor's turn to echo about in her mind.

_Without you I would just be a lonely old man rattling around in the TARDIS with no-one to talk to, my life going round and round without meaning, my life going round in circles..._

What did he mean by it, she wondered? Surely he didn't need her quite that much, no matter what he'd said. She was just a girl. He was a Time Lord, with all of the universe splayed out before him, just waiting, just for him. Adventures, excitement, dangers and wonders... what could he possibly need a human girl for?

Charley sighed again. Alive, or dead? Truly needed, or were those just careless words meant to bring her back from the brink? What did it mean?

Pulling the blanket tightly around her, Charley started walking. No matter what happened, she needed the Doctor to answer some questions, or she doubted she'd ever sleep again...


	2. Distractions

Charley/Eighth Doctor, rating M. Angst/Romance/Introspection/Hurt+Comfort

Trigger warning: mentions of self-harm and suicide, as per the Big Finish Productions "The Chimes of Midnight". This story takes place immediately after this episode.

Tried to be as canon-ish as possible. This is my first Charley and Eight fic, (and my first time writing any smut!) so give me a little credit for trying. :)

When Charley finally found the Doctor, he was in the console room. Padding in on bare feet, her steps were muffled, and he didn't seem to hear her approach. She sighed wistfully, studying him for a moment in the darkened doorway, following the shape of his form cast in the pale bluish light of the time rotor.

She couldn't remember even having seen him in such a state of undress before. The Doctor was curled up in one of the large wingback chairs, his heavy velvet coat draped haphazardly over the arm of the chair, with a scrap of silver tucked in amongst it – his cravat, then. His legs were pulled up, shoes and socks discarded, bare toes clutching at the edge of the cushion. His long fingered hands were buried deep and tight in his light brown curls, as though trying to pluck away at maddening thoughts.

Charley felt herself jump as the Doctor suddenly lifted his head and met her eyes, startled. He looked haunted, and so very sad. It was all she could do not to run to his side, and hold him until the sadness and fear melted away, for both of them.

"Charley," he whispered.

Her feet moved of their own accord, cold against the wooden floors. Suddenly awkward, Charley ran a hand through her tousled hair, and shrugged the blanket more firmly over her shoulders, attempting to regain some semblance of decency. He wasn't the only one dressed out of sorts at the moment.

"Doctor?"

The sound of her voice was all it took to bring the Doctor back from wherever he had disappeared to in his mind. "You're," he paused, and she could practically see his thoughts clearing, brightness returning to those soft, grey-blue eyes. "Charley, what are you doing awake at this hour? Usually you're fast asleep by now."

Jumping out of the chair, his pacing and voice became clearer still, until he was as usual. "Especially after the day we've just had, or was it days? I'm not sure any more. Still, Miss Pollard, _you _should be well and adrift in dreamland." He stopped just in front of her, playfully wagging a finger at her, tsking like a well-meaning parent.

His use of 'Miss Pollard' snapped Charley's attention back into focus as well. "Actually..." And now it was her turn to hesitate. Which questions to ask first? She mulled it over while the words "I couldn't sleep," rolled unbidden off her tongue.

Gently, the Doctor placed his hands on her arms, squeezing slightly like a small embrace. His eyes clouded over for a moment, and he spoke as they refocussed again. "Nightmares? Of Edith. And blood." He murmured.

Charley wasn't certain to whom he was speaking – himself, or her – as was often the case when he had these moments of strangeness. It was as though he were reading her like a book, although he had sworn multiple times that, despite being a touch-telepath, he would never go sauntering into her thoughts unwelcomed. Sometimes she wasn't sure how truthful he had been about that.

Charley shuddered, remembering the echoes of Edith's pained voice. She lifted her gaze to meet his in admission. "Yes."

"Oh, Charley." The Doctor sighed. Standing so close – he'd yet to release her arms from his grip – she could feel the cool brush of his breath against her face. Charley found herself wondering how it would feel to lean forward that slight distance, to close the gap of propriety between them and press her lips against his, even just for a moment. Her face flushed, and she hoped desperately that he wouldn't notice in the dim light of the console room.

Then, as though struck, the Doctor leaped away from her, becoming a whirling blur of energy and excitement as he sped toward the console. "That's it! Oh, Doctor, you're brilliant!" He exclaimed, grinning like a fool as he turned dials and moved levers in directions Charley found meaningless.

"Doctor?"

"Charley," the Doctor locked eyes with her. "Since you're awake, how do you fancy a little excursion?" Manic glee sparkled in those clear eyes.

His excitement was infectious, and Charley tried to push all those worries to the back of her mind as it enveloped her. She shook her head, chuckling softly, and the Doctor only beamed brighter. Charley could deny him so little at times.

"So long as there's no snow, or Christmas, or plum pudding involved, I suppose I could be convinced to have a small adventure in the middle of the night. " She smiled teasingly. "Will I be required to change my attire, or is nightdress and crocheted blanket cosidered suitable?"

Never missing a beat, the Doctor threw down the final switch, sending the TARDIS into action, its wheezing, groaning engine only adding to the feeling of strange thrill that had begun to bloom in the air.

"Why, Charlotte, your attire, you'll find, is positively more than adequate." He replied with equal flirtation. "In fact," the Doctor continued, "I think we make a fine pair dressed as such." Preening at his waistcoat and the open collar of his shirt, he grinned again and bounded toward the doors, still as barefoot as she.

Charley couldn't help but laugh. His mercurial nature made her life a whirlwind, and although none of this evening had answered a single one of her questions, she let herself get caught up in the swirling, wonderful madness that was the Doctor.

The Doctor threw the doors open, and Charley inhaled deeply of the warm, fragrant breeze that glided in through them. Well, she wouldn't be in need of shoes for warmth, she thought gratefully.

"So, what trouble have you landed us this time, with no shoes and myself in my bed clothes?" Charley elbowed him playfully as she stepped up next to him.

A look of mock pain crossed his gentle face. "Trouble? Charlotte Pollard, when would I ever do that to you?" Before Charley had a chance to respond, he added "Intentionally?" and Charley closed her mouth promptly, swallowing her retort with a small laugh.

The Doctor smiled back, and turned to look at the scenery before them. "I've landed us on a planet that humans have only recently terraformed. It won't yet be inhabited for another one hundred and thirty years, give or take a decade. Your lot is still on their way. Thirty-five billion lightyears is quite a drive for humanity at this point."

Charley followed his gaze outward. He'd landed the TARDIS on a small meadow in the twilight. Billions of stars twinkled and shimmered in the deep sapphire sky, where a pair of small, twin moons cast their strange, pale amethyst light. She could hear the sound of waves nearby. There must be a beach just over the crest of the meadow. An ocean, perhaps? The air smelled spiced and sweet, its warmth imbedding itself in Charley's bones, chasing off any lingering chill from her nightmares.

"It's beautiful." She whispered, and she felt the Doctor's hand entwine with hers as she stared.

"Come, Charley." He tugged her hand gently, pulling her from the doorway and out into the softness of the dark grass and starlight. The Doctor smiled at her strangely, and Charley felt her insides swoop as he spoke again. "Let us chase away our nightmares, and we'll lie in the grass while and stare at the stars together." He flinched slightly and the strangeness left his face as he continued. "It's safe here. I promise."

She squeezed his hand in reply. _I want to trust you, _she wanted to say. _I want to do more than chase away your nightmares for a single evening, if you'd let me in. _Instead, Charley just smiled softly, and straightened the set of her shoulders as they fell free of her blanket.

Without another word, he led her toward the beach.


	3. Decisions

Charley breathed deeply as her feet sank softly in the powder-fine sand, gentle waves lapping over her toes. She looked down, watching the glittering grains swirl in the ebb and flow of the warm water. It was strangely surreal, to be standing here, alive and warmed on this empty planet, when only hours before she'd held a butcher's knife pressed close to her veins at the behest of Edith Thompson.

The Doctor had declined coming down to the water's edge with her, making a claim for finding the perfect spot along where the grass met sand for stargazing purposes. Charley could still hear him shuffling occasionally some 5 yards away, muttering about constellations to himself.

Slowly, she slid her feet along the shoreline, slipping in and out of water as the waves continued their endless dance. Charley clutched the blanket still wrapped around her a bit tighter, relishing the softness of the fabric, and taking delight in the soft swish of her nightdress against her bare legs. Licking her lips, she could taste the salt in the air. Charley knew she was trying too hard to drown herself in her senses, in what she perceived to be real, but she couldn't stop.

_You must choose life. You must choose life now._

If it were only that simple, Doctor, thought Charley. If she closed her eyes for too long, she could still see the flames, smell the acrid smoke choking her lungs, feel the heat searing her skin, her hair... and it made no sense. Charley shook her head, twisting physically away from these, what? Memories? Could they be called memories if they never happened?

It was then she realized she couldn't hear the Doctor nearby any longer.

Startled, her eyes snapped to the direction she last remembered hearing him, only to find the grassy slope deserted. Panic filled her heart. The Doctor said this planet was uninhabited, completely safe, so where...

A shuddering breath behind her caught her attention, and Charley spun again.

The Doctor stood only a short distance behind her, his expression strange. He looked lost, adrift, but there was such a tenderness in his eyes, it nearly broke Charley's heart then and there.

It frightened her. Where was that manic joy he'd played at earlier? Where was the chasing of nightmares, the forgetting of troubles, even for a moment? Charley was still not entirely used to his mercurial nature, and this swing felt stranger and stronger than any of his that she'd experienced before.

Charley opened her mouth to speak, when the Doctor ended the silence first.

"I almost lost you." He whispered, barely audible above the sound of the water.

"Doctor...?"

"I almost..." his voice broke, just slightly. Enough for him to pause, and try to compose himself again.

Tentatively, Charley took small steps toward him. "I'm here, Doctor. I've been strolling the shore the entire time, I swear." Gently, she touched his arm, "I haven't..."

Something snapped in him at the contact of her hand. In a sudden flurry of motion, the Doctor's hands gripped Charley by the shoulders, and the soft, strange look in his eyes had disappeared, leaving only fear and a feeling she couldn't quite put to name. Charley's insides swooped dangerously again, adrenaline rushing along her veins. She could feel him trembling, the motion carried along his arms and through his hands into her like an electric current.

"You don't understand, Charley." The Doctor spoke, his voice dark and desperate and low, "I almost _lost_ you."

Realization crashed into her like a lorry. He didn't mean right now. He meant earlier. _Then._ In Edward Grove.

"Doctor," Charley spoke softly. She was unsure of what entirely was going on, but she knew well enough to tread carefully. "I'm right here." She kept her tone reassuring, despite all her own uncertainty. "I'm not going anywhere."

The Doctor's grip loosened, pulling her unexpectedly into an embrace. His arms wound around her tightly, fingers tangling into her hair, as he crushed his face into the curve of her shoulder. Carefully, Charley slid her blanketed arms around the Doctor in return, and could feel him almost deflate as he relaxed into her arms, the tension pouring out of him as quickly as it had rushed upon him.

"Yes," the Doctor murmured into her hair, "You're quite right." Charley felt his chest expand broadly with a deep breath, "You're right here." He repeated, exhaling slowly against the exposed skin of her collarbone, causing Charley own breath to catch in her throat as it ghosted along her.

"Doctor...?" Charley began, but was at a complete loss. There was a part of her, though unsure, was quite content to be wrapped up in the Doctor's warm arms. It was safe here, she'd come to realize. Safe and warm. No matter what happened in their adventures, as long as she could find her way back to him, to hold his hand, to embrace him with joy or consolation, then it didn't matter where in the universe Charley was. So long as the Doctor was there, it would work out.

Another part of her couldn't help much be concerned. The swing of his temperament could be wild at times, but this was something else. It left her unsettled and feeling all the more vulnerable. Charley wanted to shake him, awaken him from this strangeness and get back to how things were.

Charley patted the Doctor soothingly on his back, wondering what was going through his mind as moments ticked by and he had yet to release her from this hug. Certainly, the Doctor somewhat lacked in determining personal space - particularly when it came to her, she noted infuriatingly. It was as though he knew how even the slightest hint that, perhaps, he cared for her more deeply than just a friend, through the slightest of touches, or just standing that little bit too near, drove her to madness.

If she thought anything might come of it, she would have poured out the contents of her heart before the Doctor, and be done with carrying it about, locked up inside. But, for the first time in a long time, Charley was afraid. The last thing she wanted to do was to upset the beautiful friendship she'd found with the Doctor, and possibly be forced to give up this life and all its wonders.

Sighing, and figuring since he hadn't moved yet, perhaps she would just take what she was offered as it came, and nuzzled against him. Charley relished the feel of his soft curls tickling her face, the familiar scent of him filling her lungs – like lavender and citrus and something deep and unidentifiable that always made her heart skip a beat, as though momentarily overwhelmed.

Charley felt the Doctor shudder slightly under her comforting hands as they roamed idly across his back and shoulders. "Charley..." he whispered, his tone husky and edging on ragged again. Hesitantly, she could feel him shifting slightly, bringing his face up along her neck in a gentle caress, until they were cheek to cheek.

Charley's heart thundered in her chest as she struggled internally with how to respond. Before she had a chance, the Doctor pulled back again, until she could meet his gaze. His beautiful grey-blue eyes were dark in the low light of the twin moons, and she held that gaze, searching, trying to understand him, and trying to resist the increasing desire to press her lips against his finally.

The Doctor smiled, and chuckled softly to himself. He ducked his head sheepishly, wild curls falling to frame his face.

"What is it?" Charley asked, somewhat irritated by the emotional tension she was flailing about in that he seemed completely oblivious about. She did her best to conceal it, but if the Doctor was going to keep up like this for the remainder of their evening together, Charley was afraid there would be some very... _unladylike_ actions she may have to follow through on.

"Shall we watch those stars now, Charley?" The Doctor asked quietly, completely ignoring her question. His hands slid slowly down her arms until he could interlock his fingers with hers. Confused, and a bit dazzled by the tides of emotion rolling her about, Charley allowed herself to be led up the shore.

Something was going to change, somehow, she felt it. Even if she would have to be the one to change.


	4. Actualizations

By the time the Doctor had settled on the perfect location and argued her away from her blanket so they could lie back on it instead of in the grass, Charley's resolve had grown. Along with her frustration, she noted to herself.

How was it that the Doctor seemed to know exactly how to twist her heart, to draw her in to the point where she thought for sure she'd drown, only to turn her on her head within moments? Surely he wouldn't just toy with her emotions like that. He was strange, yes, but so kind and sweet...

On the other hand, he was alien. Truly. Did he feel, _could_ he feel, like humans did? Or was there something in his Time Lord mind that didn't quite work that way? Did Time Lords even have the capacity for those... _types_ of emotions?

Charley watched as the Doctor settled himself on the blanket. He seemed so at ease, so peaceful now, despite his earlier partial breakdown. His hair fanned out around his head, a chestnut nimbus of curls, and Charley wanted so deeply to run her fingers through them, to play with the tendrils gently, to be that close to him.

Uncertainty, however, forced her into sitting upright next to him, her knees tucked up by her chest, arms folded around them.

She studied him quietly as he began to extoll his knowledge about the stars twinkling above, oblivious to her increasing emotional distress.

"I just don't understand you, Doctor." Charley said, bluntly, interrupting his seemingly unending diatribe.

He visibly startled at her words. "What... what is it you don't understand? I'd be more than happy to start with the basics of astronomy, if that's what's troubling you..."

Charley laughed bitterly. "You have absolutely no idea, do you?" Taking in his thoroughly confused expression, she took her answer. "Not one teensy clue. I can see that."

Flustered, the Doctor raised himself to a sitting position. His eyes reflected a flurry of emotions, too quick for Charley to sort through, before settling on overwhelming concern. "Charley, what's the matter?"

"Where do I start?" She began helplessly. The dam of emotions she'd held at bay broke, and everything came pouring out at once. "Should I begin with my questions you seem bent on ignoring? Or with your behaviour? Or with these games you seem intent on playing with me? I can't quite decide if you are truly so obtuse, or if you know full well what you're doing, Doctor."

Charley stared hard at her own hands, gripped quite tightly around her knees now, as though trying to hold herself together. "One moment you're holding onto me like I'm going to disappear if you let go, and the next you're bounding off like a child who's grown tired of his toy, moving on to something else."

She could feel hot tears pricking at her eyes, and she swiped at them angrily. Charley stole a glance toward the Doctor, and her frustration and hopelessness only grew with his bewildered expression. "I just..." A heavy, heart-weary sigh escaped her lips. "I just want to know where I stand now. In a universe that thinks me dead." She paused. "And I want to know where I stand with you."

"Where you...?" Breathed the Doctor, softly. "Charley, I..."

She rested her forehead on her knees, listening to him flounder for words. Charley braced herself for the worst. It would be the only explanation for his erratic behaviour, surely. She could hear it all now, as ready as she could be to hear him say that this was over, their adventures were at an end, for who would want to travel along with a silly human girl so driven by these trivial kinds of emotions?

There was a long and unexpected pause instead. The only sound was the shuffling as the Doctor drew nearer. Charley refused to lift her head, her stubborness and heartache dizzying.

His tone was soft and hurt when he finally spoke. "Charley, do you really believe I think so little of you?"

Her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Charley held her breath.

The Doctor continued, near enough he barely had to speak above a whisper. "Charley... I can't answer your questions because I do not have the answers. You are here with me, you chose life. That is what I know. _That's_ what matters to me right now. _That's_ what's most important." He emphasized his words carefully, adding weight to some that made chills run over her skin.

Sensing there was more of what the Doctor wanted to say, Charley remained silent.

"As for the rest of... _this_," the Doctor resumed briefly, letting out a small huff of air in exasperation, "Charley... I'm quite terrified, if we're being completely honest."

It was Charley's turn to be confused. "Terrified? Of what?" She ventured carefully, lifting her head to peer cautiously at him. Her blue eyes locked with his sad, grey-blue ones, and their intensity caught her off guard.

"Of what you are capable of doing to me." He replied.

"Doctor..." Charley began, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Was this real? Surely, she must be dreaming. The Doctor was never like this. At least, Charley had never seen him like this before, aside from in her deepest dreams. The dreams that left her twisting and restless and sensitive in her bed, alone. She licked her lips nervously, wondering if she was misreading the Doctor's intent.

She watched as his gaze dropped to follow the darting path of her tongue, lingering a moment on her soft lips, before flickering back up to meet her eyes again. Heat rushed through to her core, and Charley's heart raced. Was it... could it be that the Doctor felt the same way as she? That perhaps this attraction wasn't as one sided as it had appeared?

Before Charley could speak again, she was silenced by the delicate pressure of the Doctor's lips against hers. She was blindsided by the unexpected kiss, it was so tender and chaste. Charley sighed against his mouth as he pulled away briefly, before a rush of boldness flooded her and she leaned forward to recapture his mouth.

The slight groan that purred in the back of the Doctor's throat spurred her on. Without breaking the kiss, Charley shifted her position until she was leaning him back slightly, kneeling over him. She felt the hand not supporting his weight grasp at the nape of her neck as the Doctor gently began to pull her down beside him on the blanket.

It was Charley's turn to moan gently as the Doctor's hand cupped her face, his tongue gently teasing at her lips until she opened the kiss. The tangled dance of their mouths increased in fervour as they explored every texture available, familiarizing themselves with the taste of each other.

She was surprised at the blazing intensity of the kiss, and how quickly it had become something much more. His hands were everywhere – ghosting along her arms and back, tangling in her mess of short blonde hair, tracing the curve of her collarbone – touches so delicate, as though she were glass and would shatter if he gripped her too fiercely.

Charley, for her part, reciprocated with enthusiasm. She feared hesitating even for a moment, lest it break the spell that had befallen them. She wanted to memorize it all, from the feel of the satin-backed waistcoat he wore as her hand slipped over it, to the crispness of the linen wingtip he wore underneath it as she gripped it, pulling him over her. The faint taste of tea in his kiss. The thundering rhythm of his hearts pounding in his chest as they pressed together. How he gasped sharply when Charley managed to pry the edge of his shirt from his trousers and ran her fingers along the smooth skin of his back, the Doctor arching into her touch.

She needed to memorize it all, in case tomorrow this all turned out to be a dream, or some shared illusion never to be repeated. Charley would keep the memory of these moments locked tightly away, revisiting them when she was alone in the darkness of her room.

The Doctor pulled back sharply as Charley began to liberate the remainder of his shirttails. She could've cursed him, then and there, for they way he looked. Had he any idea of how beautiful he was? The sharp angles of his cheekbones were flushed with colour, eyes glittering and deep in the shadows of the night. The Doctor's kiss-swollen mouth hung open slightly, the smooth curve of his lower lip begging to be nipped and pulled into her own mouth. His body a poem entwined with hers, lean and sleek, but bearing a tantalizing power hidden just below the surface.

"Charley," her name fell from his lips, reverently but with an edge of warning. The Doctor ran a long fingered hand along her arm until he could pull it from him, and wound it tightly in his own. "Are you..." He faltered. "That is, is this... I know women from your time were usually..." The Doctor stumbled and stuttered, for once his silver tongue failing him, words jumbling and jangling in his throat before they could be spoken.

Now Charley flushed, grasping the meaning of his strangled sentences. The heat that had been pooling so deliciously in her centre blazed outward in embarrassment. Had he expected her to be shy, to be fearful? Charley knew other girls from her school days had been mostly quiet about the subject, hushed whispers and rumours and tittering gossip in the ladies' rooms.

She had never been 'that girl', though. Certainly, she could play the docile when necessary, like before her mother, but it was never true in her heart. She was strong, and she knew it. After these months of traveling with the Doctor, Charley had only become more aware of the bravery and inner strength she carried.

The first night aboard the TARDIS, staring at the blinding glory of the universe spread out before her, Charley had promised herself that she wouldn't waste a moment of this adventure. That she wouldn't hold back or deny herself the gift of this journey. She would become the Edwardian Adventuress she'd always dreamed.

And if that meant she had to occasionally take a Time Lord by the lapels, tell him to shut up, and kiss him so hard that any doubts were burned from his thoughts, then so be it.

His ensuing moan as Charley move from kissing him firmly on the mouth, to nipping along the line of his firm jaw, was more than enough to convince her that she had made the right decision.

The Doctor nuzzled against her shoulder, one hand moving aside the neckline of her nightdress to better access the sweep of skin from shoulder to earlobe. Charley gasped and whimpered as the Doctor placed increasingly fiery kisses along her neck, teeth grazing her skin as he traveled downward. As he latched onto the dip of her collarbone, she wondered briefly if he'd leave a mark, and knowing in this moment, she could care less.


	5. Sensations

She'd never been touched like this before. Certainly, she'd gotten a little bold with some of the boys she'd flirted with back home, carefully in darkened corridors and behind the large drapes in the sitting room, but it was nothing like this.

There hadn't been any desperate pulling at clothes to expose more skin, and cursing at buttons, because her fingers couldn't seem to get enough of him. There hadn't been this delicious, pooling heat in her core, growing by the second as he positioned himself between her legs. There hadn't been _that_, oh, that agonizing pressure when he ground against her, still in his trousers, that motion that made her gasp sharply and dig her nails into his back.

Her name was like a prayer, chanted over and over, falling from his lips between the myriad of kisses he laved over her skin. Those long fingers sought her out, digging at the fabric of her nightdress, the only thing between him and the silk of her skin. Carefully, the Doctor began to pull the hem of her nightdress upward, inching it over her thigh as though he was afraid Charley might change her mind if he moved too quickly.

The slowness with which the Doctor moved drove Charley to near madness. She was no doe in a field, startling at every turn. She was no shrinking violet. And yes, though she'd never done anything quite like this before (with anyone quite like him before), even though she'd proved her braveness time and again, she grew frustrated with the Doctor. Did he think her too innocent? Too fragile?

Charley's instincts pushed her onward, seeking some sort of resolution to all of it, before it became too much for her to bear. She needed to know that he wanted this, _truly_ wanted this, not that he was reluctant or didn't feel she was ready.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Charley?" The Doctor continued his gentle ministrations just under her right ear, sending chills all the way to her toes as his tongue caressed her lobe. He sounded almost annoyed that he'd been interrupted.

"Is..." she broke off, moaning suddenly as he grazed her earlobe again, with his teeth this time. "Is this what you want?" Charley ran her hands nervously over the skin of his back, closing her eyes as she braced for his response.

She felt the Doctor pull back a little, and his hands stilled in their explorations. "Charley, open your eyes."

He'd sounded irritated again. Charley complied as the Doctor nudged her nose with his tenderly.

"Charley, Charley, Charley..." he admonished. "I have you here beneath me. You've divested me of my shirt and waistcoat. You're beautiful, and remarkable, and brilliant, and your skin is flushed the most incredible shade of pink I've ever seen." He drew his fingertips along the line of her jaw, and she shuddered involuntarily.

"I've never wanted to know the feeling of someone's skin so desperately before, and you're here, letting me touch you in ways I'd never dreamed of touching another person in all the universes. And you're asking me if this is what I want?"

Charley nodded weakly. It felt like the air had been snatched from her lungs. _This _was how he felt? She'd been a blind fool. Blind. She could've slapped him. Would it have killed him to let her know a little more plainly before this moment?

The Doctor placed a delicate kiss on her lips, before he thrust the hardness in his trousers sharply against her, causing Charley to cry out at the overwhelming sensation that radiated through her.

"I think I've made it clear what I want." He whispered darkly, kissing along the line he'd traced moments ago. "Now, my dear Charley, what is it _you_ want?" The Doctor pulled back again to look into her eyes, waiting for her response.

Breathlessly, Charley pulled the Doctor tightly against her, kissing him bruisingly hard. But not before she managed one quiet, clear word.

"You."

He kissed her back with equal fervour. Whatever reservations the Doctor had burned away, as each touch grew bolder, on both their parts.

Charley's hands danced farther along his back until she could cup the curve of his arse and pull him toward her again, falling into an instinctual rhythm as they rocked together. She could feel the coiling in her core building with every thrust, and Charley lost herself momentarily in the climb.

She gasped as the Doctor's hands pulled her up sharply, tugging at her clothes until Charley helped him pull the offending garment off her. Charley wasn't sure if it was the dark look in the Doctor's eyes, or the night air brushing against her bare skin, but she shivered helplessly.

The next moments blurred together for Charley, as the Doctor slid out of his trousers and knelt over her again. He nuzzled the sensitized skin of her breasts, gently moving back and forth from one to the other. Charley writhed under his mouth, her cries spilling into the night. She held nothing back as he teased her aching, pebbled nipples, as he went from soft suckling, to hard nips with the edges of his teeth, each touch only serving to build the fire within her.

"Doctor, please, please," Charley whimpered, so hazy with this rush of desire she couldn't find the words to finish her appeal to him.

She could feel one of his hands slowly tracing up the inside of her thigh. "Charley, yes, my Charley..."

Suddenly his fingers were there, pressing against her most sensitive of places, moving intensely for but a few moments. Before she could realize what was happening, it was like the stars themselves erupted behind her eyes. Charley arched into the sensation as it soared through her, her hands blindly groping for purchase against the smooth skin of the Doctor's shoulders.

"I hadn't realized you were so close," he chuckled, the husky tone of his voice like music as Charley came back down. He kissed her again, letting her come back to herself slowly before beginning to build the fire in her again.


End file.
